You observe that I spoke in an earlier post of something not-this-worldly about us as humans. You want to know more about what I mean.
All definition is founded upon pointing. A dictionary will just send you around in circles if it is complete and you treat it as a closed system. You could learn what all the words in a language mean in relation to each other without learning what any of them really mean in extra-textual terms, unless someone (through illustrations or perhaps the use of an actual index finger) POINTS you to something extra-textual to which one or more of those words alludes.
I could try creating the appropriate definition for the not-this-worldly reality I have in mind. But I am wary of chasing words around in a circle. In this case more than others, I can only point toward the something I have in mind. Point toward it without trying to do anything as rigorous as defining it because, after all, if I could define it with my pragmatic this-worldly intellect, formed to keep my ancestors away from saber-toothed tigers and help them gather nuts and berries, raise their young ... if I could define it with THAT inadequate tool, it wouldn't be the otherworldly wind-at-my-back reality I suspect it is.
Still, the following three pointers come to mind.
1) It is the flash of sudden inspiration, just BEFORE the moment that I become conscious that I've had a flash of inspiration;
2) Related but distinct: it is what the flash of inspiration might have felt like to itself, before the moment when it became MY flash by appropriation;
3) It is how I would experience duration in time, had I never had a reason to measure time arithmetically.
They may sound dramatically cryptic put thus, and I'm not a dramatically-cryptic kind of guy, so I'll expand.
First, notice that this is quite different from the Peircean notion of universals as real-but-not-existent that we discussed last week. I admire Peirce but don't follow him into scholastic realism.
Second, then, I'll observe that the first two of those pointers are inspired by James, the third by Bergson (though it was appropriated by James in A PLURALISTIC UNIVERSE).
In (1) I refer not to the "unconscious" in any Freudian friendly sense, but to the "subliminal" which figures so vastly ion studies of perception. If there is a limit, and if potential perceptions/insights lie sometimes just outside that limit, waiting to stray or to be shaken into the light (a common enough introspective sensation) then it is reasonable to consider this subliminality as a potential back door into our conscious and this-worldly minds of a range of hard-to-pin-down factors. I'll suggest a front door below. But first....
In (2) I pursue that thought further, and connect it with the question "what is consciousness"? My consciousness may just be the consciousness that some moving momentary "I" has appropriated. Other mental facts may be left unappropriated or may have been dropped but may in their own way, to themselves, be conscious mental facts nonetheless. Nagel famously asked: what is it like to be a bat? We might also ask: what is it like to be an unbranded mental fact?
We can ask it, we simply can't answer it: which was, after all, my original point.
In (3) I consider that we murder to dissect. The human race has so long needed its arithmetical calculations about time, has divided it and played fractional changes upon it, that we may in the process have lost the inward sense of what it is. And lived duration may be a central fact, even the front door of the supernatural into the natural.